Strangers
by j-orbanski
Summary: Mary Morstan was only a client of Sherlock's, yet John saw something in her that made him want her. Sherlock became jealous and showed John why he shouldn't be with Mary. Sherlock / John slash; PWP with only a hint of plot.


**Author:** Orbankjm

**Rating:** NC-17

**Pairing:** Sherlock / John

**Disclaimer:** No profit, just playing.

**Notes: **Written for my 100 prompts in 200 days challenge.

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Mary Morstan was a client. Her father disappeared after the first Gulf War less than two days of being back in London. Mary still held hope that he was alive, but as soon as Sherlock heard the case, he knew Morstan had been dead for years.

I couldn't deny that Mary was a beautiful woman. Dark blonde hair, tall, bright blue eyes, with a slightly round face which made her seem friendly as soon as you met her.

Sherlock had waved her case off as "uninteresting." It was a simple open-and-shut cold case to him – Morstan was dead, get over it.

But after Mary returned the next day with a diamond the size of Leeds in her pocket, which had come from an anonymous source, Sherlock sparked with interest. She, of course, believed it to be from her father – a true sign he was still alive; Sherlock visibly rolled his eyes.

I wanted nothing more than to flog him with his own riding crop at that moment. Wanting to diffuse the situation, I asked if she wanted to help me prepare tea. A selfish act, since I wanted to have her alone to flirt with her without being under Sherlock's watchful eye.

I flirted nervously, she laughed at my terrible jokes. I asked if she wanted to go out for a drink sometime, she accepted. Everything was smooth sailing until after she left, promising to call me to arrange a time for our date.

It was less than two minutes after she left when Sherlock lashed out at me, asking if I knew what I was doing. Mary and I were strangers – why should I trust her? She could be another of one Moriarty's agents, biding her time before covering us in Semtex and delivering us to her boss.

I explained that I had a good feeling about Mary – I could see her being my wife some day. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Sherlock then exploded with deductions about her, telling me all the ways in which she was wrong for me.

Jealousy. Sherlock was painted in jealousy now, and I could finally see some human emotion from him. It would have been refreshing if he wasn't making me livid with every passing second. Angry that I got myself into the mess of living with Sherlock bloody Holmes, high-functioning sociopath and cockblock.

I attempted to explain that it wasn't any of his goddamn business, but he grabbed me by the front of my jumper and shoved into the wall, my shoulder twitching with unwanted pain. Before I could react, his face was mere millimetres from mine; I could feel his warm breath on my face, I could see the fire within his blue eyes.

It was like we were in a staring contest, and I was determined that I would not falter from his ferocious gaze; I knew that Sherlock could read every nervous thought and feeling in my body, just from my face alone.

"You shouldn't go out with her," Sherlock hissed in a whisper.

"Why not? Because you're jealous?"

Sherlock's eyebrow quirked up for a split second, faltering his attempt to stare holes into me, before he pressed his forehead to mine.

"You don't know how jealous I am."

"I thought you were married to your work?"

"I can have an affair," he smiled before he pressed his lips to mine, barely giving me time to register what had just happened.

He knew what he was doing, which made my mind wander to where he'd learned it until his teeth nipped at my bottom lip, gaining my full attention once again. Our tongues met as I felt his hand release the hold it had on the front of my jumper and move lower to my belt buckle, swiftly undoing the belt, button, and zip in a few dexterous movements.

His mouth left mine and latched onto my neck, his teeth scratching at my skin every few moments, guaranteeing that there would be a bright purple mark there the next day. My mind blanked when his hand slipped into my pants and stroked my already half-hard (when had that happened?) cock with a strong, confident hand.

"One word and I'll stop. You can always go back to Mary," he murmured into my clavicle which he'd exposed, stretching out the neck of my jumper.

"Mary who?" I replied with a moan, forgetting the events of that afternoon.

"That's what I wanted to hear," he growled as he sank to his knees before yanking my jeans and pants down to my ankles.

He swiped his thumb over the head of my cock before licking a stripe down the entire length while my breath caught in my throat.

This obviously wasn't his first time, where had he learned it? He was just as much of a stranger to me as Mary was.

He took my cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head before he swallowed me whole, his gag reflex seemingly non-existent, as words escaped me. His fingers fondled my balls, before he squeezed the base of my cock as I gasped, feeling the pressure build in the pit of my stomach.

He stopped everything, his hands went to his sides and he took me out of his mouth, kneeling so his ass sat on his heels.

"Why in God's name would you stop?"

"So you do want this?"

"Of fucking course I want this, if I didn't, I would've stopped you ages ago."

Sherlock smiled before he stroked my cock with even more vigour than before. My eyes automatically shut while my hand moved to the top of his head, grabbing a handful of his curls as he began to lick and suck my cock once again.

It didn't take much before I felt the pressure build to an almost unpleasant level, coming harder than I could previously remember. He swallowed around me, not missing a drop of what I gave him.

I couldn't help but smile when I looked down at him, that half-smirk playing on his lips before his tongue darted out, running over both his top and bottom lip, determining whether he had dribbled.

"And you said Mary and I were strangers, hell, we're just as much strangers, Sherlock. Where the hell did you learn how to do that?"

"Let's just say I experimented a lot at university," he smiled, standing up and heading over to my laptop which sat on the table in the living room.

I laughed before I asked what he was doing.

"I'm just emailing Mary that you won't be able to go out with her since you're already involved with someone."

"Okay, stranger," I replied with a laugh.


End file.
